Scenes from Childhood
by mysticdragon01
Summary: For the early years are often looked back upon as the happiest.


"Hi Mom, hi Dad!" called Corwin the Eevee as he trotted into the house, past the living room where his father sat reading some papers, and past the doorway to the kitchen where he caught a glimpse of his mothers tail.

"How was school?"

"Great!" said Corwin, poking his head into his room only to drop off the satchel he carried. He spun around and pranced back the way he came, the floorboards creaking under his paws. "I'm going to see Herbie and Darren!"

"Don't you want something to eat first?

"No thanks!"

"All right. Be back before dark, okay?"

By the time the sentence had reached its end, Corwin was out the door. He skipped along the little path on his lawn until the gate to the street, where he stopped and looked both ways. There was little reason for this, of course, as the street – more like a trodden trail – was a dead end, and few Pokémon ever came there.

He followed the trodden trail, coarse gravel that was barely comfortable to walk on, towards the dead end. The trail zigzagged slightly, as if squirming in the narrow space between the opposite houses, until it broadened in the face of the house at the end of the lane. Herbie's house.

That was not where he was going. Just before the planked fence of Herbie's garden, there was a thin alley to the right, squashed between the fence and the white brick wall of his neighbors. Corwin hopped into the alley, making sure not to run too fast, as the fence could give him splinters and the path took a downward slope – one time he'd tripped and come home crying with blood running down his nose.

He descended without incident. The white bricks gave way to a rusted wire mesh, beyond which was a piece of land that did not seem to belong. Overgrown grass and thick bushes shrouded the area in darkness. Corwin glanced into its depths and quickly moved along.

The path took a leftward bend, and he followed. The wooden fence had taken a turn, too, creating a gradually widening stretch of grass between it and the steep hill to another street below. Shrubs and trees populated this stretch, trees that were lanky and seemed bare regardless of time of year. Some of their branches sagged over the path, and Corwin liked to think he was entering a tunnel. Indeed, as he entered, the sounds of the street became muffled, leaving only the rustle of grass and the gentle whisper of the wind. The ground was a dancing swarm of light and shadow as sunlight filtered through the swaying boughs and twigs above.

At the end of the tunnel, he could already see his friend. "Hi!" he hollered, running into the opening beyond, towards the Abra who was reclined against a tree.

"Hello, Win," the Abra said, scarcely audible.

"Where's Darren?" Corwin said, scanning the branches around him. Twice already Darren had hidden atop them and startled him; there would not be a third.

Herbie shrugged. "He's not here yet."

"Hmm." The Abra's mumble was suspicious, and Corwin lowered his stance, keeping his eyes to the trees. He spotted a splash of red, and following it he was able to find the Treecko, pressed against a thick branch. "Aha, I see you!"

"Aw, Herbie, you gave it away," said the grass type. He then leapt off the branch and landed on all fours.

"Sorry."

"Anyway!" said Corwin, after sticking his tongue out at Darren. "What should we play?"

"I really liked that story about the three heroes," the Treecko prompted. "Those Guild mons."

Corwin remembered the three Pokémon Mrs. Taberna had told them about today and grinned. "Oh yeah! I was thinking, that mon who could teleport and move stuff with his mind – Herbie, you could be him!"

"Well," said Herbie, nervously tugging on a blade of grass, "I can teleport a little…"

"And I'll be the leader!" proclaimed Darren, puffing up his chest and pointing at himself with a finger.

"Hey, I wanted to be Leader," whined Corwin, stamping his forepaws.

"Well, too bad, I called it."

"Oh yeah?"

Corwin pounced at the Treecko, and the two became a tangle of limbs as they tussled in the grass.

* * *

"How's he doing?"

"He's… He's lost too much blood; it's only a matter of time before he…"

"I'm sorry, Healer. I know he's your childhood buddy, but if you can't help him, you have to move on."

Thunder rumbled. Or was it the roar and trample of Pokémon outside?

"I'm trying to… to ease his suffering. To give him a good death."

"There are dozens of mons who _need_ a healer. Don't waste time on a 'good death.' There's no such thing."

"Please, sir… Please. I can't let him die like this. Alone."

"Hm. On your own head be it, Healer."

* * *

"Leaf Blade!" shouted Darren, swinging his arm on which he held three long leaves forward. The leaves flapped with the motion, and one of them fell to the ground.

Corwin pretending to be flung back, adding a few rolls on the grass for dramatic effect. His fur on end, he jumped to his feet. "Herbie, go!"

The Abra, capable only of teleporting a few inches in distance, made a 'fwoom' sound – immediately understood as teleportation – and scurried towards Darren, who waited respectfully for the move to be completed. The action resumed when Herbie took a breath, mumbled "Psychic," and thrust out his palms.

Darren froze, struggled for a bit, then introduced spasmodic movements of his arms and tails. "You can't hold me with this puny power! Solar beam!"

Before the Treecko could initiate the attack, a Vulpix appeared from behind a tree. The three paused, sighed collectively, and turned to her.

"Maya, what are you doing here?" said Corwin.

"I heard a bunch of noise," the Vulpix said, eyeing them curiously.

"We're _battling_ ," explained Darren, holding up the arm with the Leaf Blade props. "Now go away."

The Vulpix snorted and swished her tails. "Hmph. Battling? You don't know anything about battling."

"Of course I do! I'm the strongest in class."

"Uh-huh. You know you're not actually supposed to shout the names of the moves you're using, right?"

Darren crossed his arms. "And why not?"

"Because, dummy, you're just telling them what you're doing next."

"Well!" The Treecko went red in the face. "It sounds cool!"

"It's dumb."

Darren turned away and pouted. Herbie said nothing.

"Uh… do you want to join us?" offered Corwin, much to the chagrin of his grass type friend. "The teams could be a little more even."

The Vulpix sat down and tapped her chin in thought. "Okay, I'll play. Somebody has to show you guys how to do it."

* * *

One afternoon after school, Corwin, Herbie, and Darren were gathered in their usual meeting place, but this time the Treecko was not waiting to leap from one of the trees, nor was he seeking to start a brawl. Instead, his tails were drooped, and he stood forlornly on the grass, rocking in the wind.

"What's wrong?" asked Herbie.

The Treecko didn't look up from his fidgeting hands. "I can't hang out with you guys anymore."

"What?" cried Corwin. "Why not?"

"We're… we're moving away today. My parents say we have to leave the country."

" _Why_?"

"I don't know," the Treecko said, and he began to sniffle. "They just said that the new king doesn't like mons like us. But… but he doesn't know us. How can they say that? It's not fair."

Corwin didn't know what to say and turned to Herbie, but the Abra seemed equally bereft of speech. "That's terrible," said Corwin at last, patting the grass type on the back. "But hey, maybe your new town will be even cooler! And we're going to write letters, so we can still talk!"

"And we can visit each other on the holidays," added Herbie.

Darren wiped the tears from his eyes and let out a chuckle that sounded like a sob. "I guess so…"

"C'mon, let's have one more battle!" said Corwin, nudging his friend upright. "To prove once and for all who's Leader!"

"O-Okay," said Darren, a grin returning to his face. "No excuses if you lose this time. Herbie, you're the judge!"

"Right," the Abra said, stepping back. "Let the battle begin."

The Eevee and Treecko jumped at each other, and thus ensued the longest scuffle of their lives.

* * *

"I'm going to Herbie's," Corwin said, dropping his bag off in his room – this time he walked; he'd stopped running ever since he'd accidentally cracked a floorboard and his parents grounded him.

"All right, be careful!" his mother called. "Stay indoors, okay? Don't go wandering around outside!"

"I know, I know."

When Corwin stepped outside, he knew that he didn't want to dawdle there anyway. The snowfall was so thick it was like a mist, and the wind made his eyes water and his nose runny. So he kept his head tucked in as he trudged forth, hardly able to see where he was going. Fortunately, the street was plowed, and once he followed it the wind was at his back and he sped along as though he'd used Agility.

He was so fast, in fact, that by the time he realized he was on ice, it was too late, and he skidded straight into the wooden gate of Herbie's house. He crashed into it with a great knock and a yowl.

"Hello," said Herbie, opening the gate. "Nasty weather we're having; let's… oh, Win, are you okay?"

Several berries and blankets later, Corwin was feeling better, though his nose ached and felt puffy. Herbie and Maya sat with him and played games for a while. The house was so warm and the blankets so cozy that the Eevee was constantly on the verge of dozing off, and he had no idea how long they sat there.

"The snow stopped," Maya said, her face pressed against the window. Corwin rubbed his eyes and yawned. "We can finally go outside!"

Corwin's ears perked up at the sound of raised voices nearby, something about danger and violence, and soon after Herbie's mother shuffled into the room. "I'm afraid that's not a good idea."

"How come?" asked Maya, already stationed at the door.

"The snow may be over, but…" Herbie's mother averted her gaze. "It's still far too cold out! You'd only get sick."

Maya nodded disappointedly, though all their spirits were lifted when Herbie's mother brought them warm pie.

* * *

"And now a word from our salutatorian, Corwin the Eevee!"

The crowd applauded and Corwin slid from the bench and assumed his position at the front of the dais. He scratched his collar and looked out into the audience, a formidable ensemble of parents and teachers. The room was tightly packed so he had nowhere else to look, but soon he saw his parents and he calmed. Briefly he glanced back at the rest of his class and caught encouraging gestures from Maya and Herbie.

"I should start by saying I am honored to be giving this speech," Corwin said. "I know that my good friend Herbert is valedictorian and his speech is probably going to blow mine out of the water, but I'll give it a go anyway."

A few chuckles sounded from the crowd.

"Now, while speechwriting might not be my primary pursuit, I have worked hard on other things. We all have. Herbert here wants to be a healer, to cure Pokémon of physical and mental pain with his telepathic powers. Joan wants to be a singer, to bring happiness into Pokémon's lives, and Vern wants to be a chef – again, happiness. Me? I've always wanted to join a guild and be an explorer. The thrill of discovering new lands, searching old ones, and helping others along the way… nothing seems better.

"Of course, with all the different paths we have chosen, we leave this school with a ways to go yet. But that is in no way to discredit how far we've come. Here, thanks to our teachers and with the support of our family and friends, we've been given the tools to succeed out there, in the world. Are we going to change it? I don't know, but I've never met a group of Pokémon I would think more capable of it.

"I wish good luck to all my classmates, and once again I thank our teachers for shaping us into who we are and preparing us for the future. Finally, thank you for coming, and for being there for us when we needed it, and perhaps even when we didn't. We will carry your love with us always."

Corwin gave a bow, and applause rang in his ears. He felt giddy and as though he had forgotten how to walk, but somehow he made it back to his seat next to Herbie. The Kadabra patted him on the shoulder, and Maya gave him a smile.

* * *

That night, after a lavish dinner and far too much cake, Corwin sat draped against the table as his father brought a box into the room. Curious, Corwin dropped down from the stool, and his parents gathered around him with smiles on their faces.

"Son, we are very proud of you," his father said. "Arceus forbid, you're almost grown up now. And so, we thought it was about time you made your choice."

"Choice?" Corwin breathed, his tail thumping against the floor as he watched the box intently. His father nodded, and his mother opened the box. Resting atop velvet padding were three stones, each with the symbol of an element – fire, water, and lightning. Corwin drew in a breath and bounced in place. "Those are…!"

"That's right, we think it's time for you to evolve," his mother said. "Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"And we know there are other options, but these are the only stones we have," his father added. "So, if you want to be an Umbreon like me, you're on your own."

"No, I… Thank you!" Beaming from ear to ear, Corwin reached into the box and grabbed one of the stones. He knew exactly what he wanted.

"Oho, so you want to be a Jolteon, huh?" his father said with a grin. "As if you weren't energetic enough already. You might just bring the whole house down."

"Stop it," his mother said, nuzzling against the Umbreon's shoulder.

Corwin scarcely heard them as he held the Thunderstone in a trembling paw. It seemed heavy now, and he felt a little light-headed. Without warning, a brilliant light enveloped him, and his body transformed.

It was over in an instant. With shaking breath, Corwin looked down and saw a mane of spiky white fur around his neck and yellow fur below it. He looked back at his parents – he matched their height now. His legs twitched; his muscles were tensed and he felt primed to spring into the air and run for miles. He felt unstoppable.

* * *

"Any luck with applying to guilds?" Herbert asked. The two of them sat on a piece of Herbert's fence that jutted out by the gate. This had become their usual hangout spot ever since they'd been forbidden from meeting amongst the trees down the alley.

"Nah, apparently that doesn't start until fall," Corwin said.

The Kadabra nodded, and for a while they sat in silence, watching the sky above. It was cloudy, but every once in a while the cover would part and starlight would shine through. The air was cool and everything around was pale with frost, but Corwin was not cold.

"What about you? Have you found where to study to become a healer?"

"I'm still looking, but… well… Have you noticed anything odd about your parents?"

The question caught Corwin off guard, and he wrinkled his forehead. "My parents? No, I don't think so. Why?"

"I feel like mine have been increasingly worried about something. I don't know what; they never tell me what's wrong. Only once did I hear them talking, talking about the king, and the Mewites and Arceons."

"Mewites and Arceons," Corwin repeated, pulling on his mane in thought. "Aren't those religious groups?"

"They are."

"Ah, well, I never really got into that stuff so I don't know what's going on. Do you?"

"I only recently did some reading. Apparently, the king himself is an Arceon, and he denounces anyone who…" Herbert trailed off and squinted into the distance. "Ah, here comes Maya. You haven't seen her yet, have you?"

"What do you mean, haven't seen her yet?" Corwin asked, and followed his friend's gaze. He saw a Pokémon approaching them, but it was larger and certainly not the orange of Maya's fur. That was when he saw it – it was no longer the orange of Maya's fur because Maya had evolved. Instead of orange, her fur was a lustrous golden white, practically shining under the fleeting starlight. Her thin form walked with weightless steps, and with how her crest and tails billowed behind her, he half expected her to float off of the ground.

In no time at all she'd reached them, but Corwin kept staring until an elbow in the ribs from Herbert snapped him out of it.

* * *

"Goodbye," his mother said, hugging him close to her. "Don't let them push you too hard, okay? I've packed you a bunch of blankets so you shouldn't get cold, and some medicinal berries in case you get sick…"

"Mom," Corwin said, shifting within the hug. His father stood by but Corwin looked away.

"If you're ever not feeling well, you write home, you hear? And you better answer the letters we send you."

"Mom."

"And try to stick with Herbie, all right? I'm sure there'll be good mons around, but who knows what sort of characters you'll be placed with, and–"

"Mom!" Corwin ducked out of the hug and stepped back, chuckling. "I'll be fine. Really. It's just eight months."

His mother moved close to his father, and together they stood, watching him silently. Their eyes were wide with fear, fear Corwin did not understand, and that made him afraid. But he knew seeing him smile eased their worry, and so he smiled. "Like you say, Herbert's going with me. It'll be fun."

"I'm sure it will," said his father. It was a relief to finally hear him speak; he sounded calm. "Better be off; don't want to be late for the first day."

"Right," Corwin said, and he straightened. For a few long seconds he took in the sight of his parents, for suddenly he felt as though he would have trouble remembering what they looked like. Then, without a word, he turned around and walked to where the path on their lawn joined the street and looked both ways.

Herbert was waiting for him to the left, a heavy bag over his shoulder and an even heavier force bending his spine and hanging his head. His expression remained unreadable, though, and Corwin strived to achieve a similar level of composure and kept his expression unreadable, too.

What was there to be nervous about, anyway? Sure, military training was not what he'd seen himself doing after he graduated, but it couldn't be that bad, could it? It would make him stronger and better able to help other Pokémon, and many told him that it was an honor to serve his country – maybe there was some truth to that.

"Corwin!"

The Jolteon bristled, and he received a melodious laughter in response. He knew that laughter, and with a sigh and a smile he turned to the Ninetales who sat at the side of the street.

"Sheesh, you guys are out of it," Maya said, flicking her tails. "That's the third time I called you."

"Sorry, you know, I'm focused and all that. I didn't know you'd be seeing us off."

"You thought I wouldn't be there so say goodbye to my little Jolteon?" She brought him into an embrace. Corwin blushed and his fur crackled with static, and she giggled before letting him go. "Anyway, I just wanted to give you this."

She pulled a dark blue square of patterned cloth from her bag and tied it around his neck. He tried to pull back his head but he could only see the edges of the cloth.

"It's so you have something to remember me by," she said, her voice suddenly less playful.

Corwin nuzzled her and kept his face close to hers. "Maya, I'm not going to forget you." He pulled away, leaving her looking after him as if pleading for him to stay. "Thanks, though! Looks great."

He returned to the side of Herbert, who hadn't moved. "See you in a few months, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, almost to herself. "Good luck. You too, Herbert."

The Kadabra bowed. "Thank you. Goodbye."

Corwin's feet resisted the urge to move, and he wanted to say something else, just to keep talking, but he knew that if he did he would only be stalling and they would stand there for many minutes more. So he gave a final wave, and together with Herbert he walked down the street. All the houses – the dried paint on the closed gates, the wild patches of grass that lined the fences – they seemed to be saying goodbye, too.

* * *

"I did it, I was chosen to be a healer!" Herbie exclaimed.

Doubtless the Kadabra's whiskers quivered atop a wide grin, but Corwin didn't have the energy to lift his head and look. He was sprawled over the scant spread of hay that was his bed, and his limbs were so stiff and heavy that he felt practically chained to it. "Congratulations," he said, the words only just managing to fall from his mouth.

"You sound awful," Herbie said, "and you look awful. What class did you get?"

"Warrior," he croaked.

"Oh… I'm sorry. I know you wanted scout."

Corwin grumbled unintelligibly.

"Here, maybe I can do something about the pain…"

* * *

 _Dear Mother and Father_ , Corwin wrote.

His paw trembled, and he raised it to avoid marring the paper. He fought back the tears that blurred his eyes; he had only a few minutes until lights-out. _I'm sorry to say that I won't be coming home just yet. We've been assigned to the Enzolian front; we're moving out tomorrow. They say our forces are making ground – hopefully that means the battle will end soon. Don't worry too much; I've got Herbie and hundreds of capable mons by my side, and I've still got the blankets you gave me._

 _I hope you are doing well. I love you._

 _Corw–_

"Lights-out!"

* * *

Pain, pain like fire. He was on fire. His insides screamed. He tried to, but couldn't.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Bad memories… I'm sorry… It'll be okay, Win. It'll… It'll be okay."

A silent sobbing penetrated the cacophony outside and within his head. The pain faded, and with it faded everything else, except the sobbing, which transformed into a beautiful, melodious laughter.

* * *

Corwin descended the alley without incident. The white bricks on the right gave way to a rusted wire mesh, beyond which was a piece of land that did not seem to belong. Overgrown grass and thick bushes shrouded the area in darkness. He glanced into its depths and quickly moved along.

The path took a leftward bend, and he followed. As he entered the tunnel of arching branches, the sounds of the street became muffed, leaving only the rustle of grass and the gentle whisper of the wind. The ground was a dancing swarm of light and shadow as sunlight filtered through the swaying boughs and twigs above.

At the end of the tunnel, he could already see his friends. "Hi!" he hollered, running into the opening beyond, towards the Abra, Vulpix, and Treecko who waited for him.


End file.
